


The Bells but Better

by r15019



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Fix-It, Multi, cause 8x05 really needs fixing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-03-02 21:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18819121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r15019/pseuds/r15019
Summary: Daenerys doesn't want to be the queen of ashes. Jaime might actually have a plan. Jon has an active role in the plot. Cersei never earned redemption.Basically what I think should've happened if the characters were actually in character in 8x05.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After the disaster that was last episode I've decided to pretend none of it was canon and make my own version! Cause wow that was terrible. 
> 
> (In this AU, Jon never abandoned Ghost and he's chilling at winterfell, he's not in the story but I think it's pretty important information)

Daenerys stood against a pillar overlooking the beach of Dragonstone. It wasn’t too long ago that all her children could be seen lounging on its shores. Back when she first arrived with Missandei and Jorah at her side and great armies in tow, ready to fight for what was hers. How is it that that moment feels both like yesterday, and a thousand years ago? Now she is left with but one child, a third of her army, and without those with whom she felt at home with.

Her hair was in shambles, the braids were unraveling and her curls began to flatten yet she could find neither the will nor energy to fix them. Missandei was the one who had woven her hair into its intricate braids only days ago and as childish as it seemed she wanted to hold onto any part of her friend for as long as she could.

“My Queen.” Tyrion’s voice echoed through the empty room, “There’s something you need to know.”

She sensed his hesitancy without having to look at him. She could picture him now, his hands fiddling and his gaze cast downwards. She would say what he will not.

“Someone has betrayed me.”

“Yes.” He said surprised, as if betrayal was not something that had been an unwelcome presence attached to her side all her life.

She turned to face him, revealing the exact nature of her state. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, beneath them were purple crescents, testimony to the few hours she had slept. Her cheeks were becoming a hollow shadow of the fullness they had once been.

“Jon Snow.” She stated more than asked. It required great effort to keep her voice from wavering or from wrapping her arms around herself and hugging tightly.

Tyrion pursed his lips and finally met her eyes. “Varys.”

She could hardly have been surprised. Varys hopped from ruler to ruler like a flea, now it was his time to perch on the back of another.

“He knows the truth about Jon?”

“He does.”

Daenerys grimaced as if the words were a knife to her chest. “You told him, didn’t you? And Sansa told you because Jon told her. Despite my begging him to do otherwise.”

Tyrion looked ashamed. Some primal part of her thought, _good, he should be_. But no, perhaps it wasn’t Tyrion’s fault, or Sansa’s or Jon’s. It was her own for coming to a country where she had no friends, no love.

“It doesn’t matter. I should have known it would get out. Secrets rarely stay so for long.”

Despite her words Tyrion still looked abashed. His hands were clasped behind his back and she could have sworn she saw his knees wobble.

“My Queen.” He started, “You must trust that we had the best of intentions. Varys too. He just wanted a better world.”

Her gaze softened if only an ounce, “Despite his intentions, I cannot allow treason in my ranks. There will be a trial tomorrow to determine his fate.”

Tyrion nodded and turned to leave before she interjected. “Tyrion.” Her voice like a sounded harsh and intrusive in the silent room. “Do I really inspire such fear that my own hand can’t bare to meet my eyes?”

For once it seemed the man was at a loss for words. She sighed, “Nevermind. I trust you’ll prepare everything for the trial. We’ll have it at first light.” Without waiting for a response she turned back to the seafront and let the wind brush against her face and create new tangles in her hair.

....

 

The trial commenced at dawn. Daenerys sat on her throne with Tyrion standing to her right and Jon her left. Despite herself she could not look at Jon. Every time she saw his stern expression and the sharp lines decorating his face, she felt just as she did when she was a little girl who’d upset Viserys but didn’t know why. She would spend hours pestering him and probing him for answers as to what was wrong until finally he’d snap, proclaiming that she ‘woke the dragon’. Eventually she learned it was best not to ask at all.

Varys had not bothered feigning innocence. He rambled that his actions were in service to the realm and that Daenerys was not the woman he had hoped her to be. She kept an impassive face but inside she was sobbing, banging on the walls and tearing her clothes in anguish. He had called her the tyrant she was trying so hard to defeat. It was like he ripped his words from her nightmares and with it condemned her soul to suffer in each of the seven hells. Had she lost herself so completely that others had begun to see in her what she always dreaded might be lurking beneath?

She sentenced Varys to death. She had no choice.

....

  
When darkness fell she sat by the fire though she felt coldness prick every inch of her skin. In her hands she held the one thing left of Missandei. She fondled the collar’s buckle and felt the rough leather scrape her skin. All this and for what? Missandei to die in the chains she fought so hard to be freed from?

Grey Worm stood before her, eyes glued to the doorway as if he had no thoughts other than what unseen threat might exist beyond the door. Other than issuing and receiving commands, he hadn’t spoken a word since Missandei’s body fell to the ground like a ragdoll.

“This was all she brought with her when we crossed the narrow sea. Her only possession.”

Grey Worm stood impassive, refusing to look at the object in her hands. Daenerys held out her hand with the collar grasped tightly in her fingers and only then did Grey Worm turn to her. Upon looking at the worn leather and rusted metal his face crumpled. He grasped the collar and for the first time let tears flow down his face. His thumb caressed the hard material with his thumb. Without a word between them he tossed the collar into the fire. Daenerys couldn’t help but shiver as the collar folded in on itself as it was licked up by the flames.

At the sound of footsteps they both tensed and Grey Worm let himself harden once more. If not for the wetness on his cheeks there would have been no indication that his face betrayed it’s cool, empty expression. Jon emerged from the doorway and Dany felt herself shrink into herself just as the collar had done only moments before.

Grey Worm stood tall and firm as Jon walked before them.

“It’s all right. Let me speak with him.” Dany told Grey Worm in the Unsullied’s tongue. He nodded and left the room but not without sparing Jon a suspicious glance.

The two of them stood in silence for awhile. Neither sure of what to say. After several tantalizing moments she broke the silence. “This isn’t what I expected to happen. It’s quite the opposite actually.” She looked up to meet his gaze, eyes searching for answers that lips would not provide. “Why couldn’t you have kept it a secret?”

He took a deep inhale as if preparing for a speech. “I don’t want it. And I couldn’t lie to my family. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

There it was. The answer she’d been both anticipating and dreading. She’s never had a family, not a blood one at least. In the furthest depths of her heart she secretly hoped Jon could become her family. Though that wish was beginning to seem unattainable.

“I have no love here. Everywhere I turn I’m met with either fear or indifference. You promised me the Northerners would warm up to me and yet they never have.”

He opened his mouth to protest but she quickly corrected herself, “At least not in the way I had hoped.”

“My whole life, I’ve never truly belonged anywhere. From the moment I was taken from my mother’s arms I was sent from place to place in hopes that one day I might survive long enough to find a home. Since I was old enough to understand anything, I understood that King’s Landing was to be my home. Viserys would drill it into my head until it was all I could think of. _Home_.” She stood from her chair and walked before him. “I want to go home, Jon.”

As if her words had melted ice, Jon’s face collapsed into one of compassion and love. He cupped her face gently, calloused fingers caressing smooth cheeks as he stared into her eyes.

“You’ll go home, Dany. We’ll go together.”  
Relief coursed through her veins as she wrapped her arms tightly around Jon’s torso and buried her face in his neck. He muttered words of encouragement and love into ear and held her like she was all that mattered.

When they finally pulled apart he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, “I love you, Dany. And in time so will all the others.”

She couldn’t help the small smile that sprouted on her lips.

....

Later that same night she sat on her throne. The large room was void of light save for the candles that stood next to her, highlighting everything around them with a faint orange glow. Tyrion and Grey Worm stood at her feet, they had been talking war strategies for some time and she was beginning to grow tired.

Tyrion was attempting to persuade her to spare the innocents that shielded Cersei with their own bodies. She was arguing that she didn’t see many options. Grey Worm watched in silence.

“You once said that you would not be the queen of ashes. You wish to free innocents from slavery and tyrants. The way to do this is not through death. Don’t prove Cersei right. Don’t be another mad Targaryen who wants to see their subjects burn. Be Daenerys Stormborn. Protector of the realm and breaker of chains.”

Daenerys twitched on her throne.

“If the city surrenders and they ring the bells, please call off the attack.” He begged her, “Don’t harm innocents in your quest for the throne. They have no part in Cersei’s evil.”

Daenerys stared ahead for a moment, thinking silently. “Wait for me by the city.” She told Grey Worm. “You’ll know when it’s time.”

....

The next night when the army was camped on the shores of Dragonstone preparing for war, Tyrion prepared to defy his queen. He walked through the camp passing Northerners, Unsullied, and Dothraki alike. He could have sworn he saw Arya Stark ride in next to the Hound but they were gone before he could get a second look.

When he stood in front of his brother's tent he took a deep breath. He was doing what he had to. He talked his way through the guards without much difficulty, only mildly embarrassing himself in the process.

When he entered the tent he saw Jaime sitting slumped where he was chained to the pole in the tent’s center. His eyes were downcast and he wore a pitious expression.

“Why?” Tyrion asked. “Why’d you do it? I thought you were done with Cersei. That you recognized the poison that flows through her veins in place of blood.”

Jaime refused to meet his gaze. “I knew what I was doing.”

Tyrion frowned. “You always did love her, didn’t you?”

“It’s not just that. There’s more to it.”

With a sigh Tyrion began his pre-planned speech, “There will be a battle tomorrow and there’s a good chance that innocents will die. Is that what you want?”

“I never wanted that.”

“There’s still a way we can avoid it. You can go to Cersei, convince her to surrender. There’s not a chance she’ll win, but she doesn’t have to bring innocents down with her.”

“Yes well I can’t exactly do that in chains, can I?”

Tyrion reached into his pocket and brought out a brass key, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Jaime looked at him with an incredulous expression before sinking back into the ground. “Cersei never listened to me before, now isn’t any different.”

Tyrion furrowed his brow and looked at Jaime with a stern gaze, “You can make her listen. I know you can.”

Upon receiving no response from Jaime he continued, “Escape. The two of you can sail off to Essos and raise your child together in peace. I’ve arranged for a dinghy to be placed at the foot of the keep. Take it to the bay and hope the winds are kind. Start a new life.”

Jaime adopted a curious expression that Tyrion could not identify, “Alright.”

Tyrion couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face. He hastily fit the key into the lock and freed Jaime from his chains. “I never thought I’d get to repay the favor.” He smirked. “Promise me you’ll send the order to ring the bell before you go? That way Daenerys won’t attack and innocent blood will not be shed.”

Jaime nodded and flexed his wrists which were now free of shackles. “I promise.”

Tyrion looked down on him fondly and smiled sadly, “If it weren’t for you I would never of survived my childhood.”

“That’s not true.”  
“It is.” He affirmed, “You were the only one who never treated me like a monster. You were all I had.” He could hardly help the tears that began pooling in his eyes.

Jaime wrapped his arms around Tyrion and pulled him in close. They stayed like that for awhile, the only sound the occasional sniffle or stifled sob until Tyrion stood up, gave his brother one last, long look and exited the tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is reallyneedmoresleep if anyone wants to rant about how incredibly awful that episode was because- wow. It was not good.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the lovely comments on the last chapter! I guess I shouldn't be surprised though considered how astronomically terrible that episode was. In comparison literally anything would be better. 
> 
> The next chapters gonna conclude the events of the episode and the last chapters gonna be sort of an epilogue. I hope you guys like it :)

When Arya walked through King’s Landing with the Hound by her side she was overwhelmed by the extreme mass of people running for the gates. There was not an inch of ground that was not covered by nervous, eager feet. As they moved deeper into the crowd Arya had to resort to using her elbows just to keep people away.

“We’re in the deep shit now.” She heard the Hound mutter besides her.

He was covered in a heavy black cloak with the hood drawn up to hide his scarring from the crowd. The hood did little though, to hide the look of anxiety consuming his features. He was here to get his revenge, just like her. Arya has been waiting for this moment for what seems like a lifetime. In the Hound’s case, it actually was.

They pushed past the Golden Company with their shiny armour and vacant stares. They reminded Arya of the Unsullied. They carried their spears high and proud with faces betraying no feeling of fear. She silently wished luck to Jon and the army of Northmen she knew waited just beyond the walls.

….

Jon stared at the walls separating them from King’s Landing transfixed. Blood red Lannister banners littered them and scorpions stood atop every tower. He couldn’t look at them without feeling an ache in his chest. _That’s what killed Rhaegal_. He didn’t know the dragon for long. His grief was incomparable to Daenerys’, she had lost a child. He lost a friend he was just beginning to understand. Though in all his years he knew he would never forget the feeling of the wind brushing his face as Rhaegal danced though the sky.

“If you hear the bells ring, they’ve surrendered. Call of your men.” Tyrion’s voice ripped him from his thoughts and his attention was forcibly returned to the battle they had before them.

Jon spared a look to the Golden Company guarding the walls and then down to his own men. The numbers seemed to be in their favor and for that Jon was grateful. Though he supposed numbers had little relevance when they had a dragon on their side.

He turned back to Tyrion who was watching him expectantly.

“I know you’re worried about Daenerys.” He told him. “I trust her to do the right thing. And you should too.”

Tyrion pursed his lips and nodded hesitantly. “You’re probably right. Forgive me of my skepticism.”

Jon nodded back but wasn’t thoroughly convinced. It seemed some of Sansa’s apprehension had rubbed off on him. Though he couldn’t find it in himself to blame Sansa. Since they first parted all those years ago she had been thrust into the arms of people waiting and ready to manipulate and abuse her. It was no longer in her nature to trust easy. Jon could only hope that Tyrion will come around once more and given time perhaps Sansa will as well.

With one last look to the Lannister sigil hanging on the walls and the scorpions sitting above them Jon turned to join his army.

….

There wasn’t a sound to be heard on the sea. Euron and his men were standing on the decks, waiting for orders or something they could hit. Euron was hoping he’d get some target practice on the Targaryen’s last dragon.

From the unhuman screaming that emerged from the clouds he had a feeling he was in luck. The dragon loomed over the sea as it came near them. It created a dark shadow over the water as it zipped through the sky.

“Ready the scorpion!” He shouted to his men and they rushed to carry out his command.

He watched the dragon fly closer and closer until it was right before the fleet. He turned back to his men, “Fix your aim you shits! Do you want the bitch to fry you like chickens?”

And then the dragon flew past them. It didn’t even give him a chance to kill it. The rude bastard. Once he got over his surprise he grew to wonder why the Dragon Queen flew past his fleet without a second thought. That’s when he happened to look at the horizon and his gaze was met with perhaps a hundred ships all with flags bearing the Greyjoy sigil.

……

Drogon blasted through the walls and sent the Golden Company ablaze. It was a glorious, terrible display of utter power that would have left anyone quaking. After Drogon cleared the way the Unsullied advanced and then the Dothraki and the Northerners in turn. They eradicated what remained of the Golden Company and devastated the Lannister army.

Drogon destroyed every last scorpion on the walls as the armies advanced through the streets of King’s Landing. The eventually met a large portion of the Lannister army and found themselves at a face off. Daenery’s army sporting dark greys, browns and blacks across from Cersei’s bright reds and golds.

Daenerys took Drogon around the wall once more, checking for any stragglers or scorpions she might have missed, and upon finding none, landed Drogon on the roof of a building right besides her army. She was so close she could almost make out the brooding look on Jon’s face as well as the fear plastered to the faces of the Lannister soldiers. Drogon surged forward and screeched sending the first row of soldiers stumbling back in terror and surprise. They exchanged a few looks amongst themselves before dropping their swords in surrender.

After several tantalizing minutes of silence and apprehension, the sound of bells rung through the streets and the relief that washed over each soldier’s expression was apparent. Jon released a sigh of relief himself, there would be no need for a battle today. It was then that he noticed Drogon’s wings flapping restlessly. Dany sat atop him not looking much better herself. Her expression was grim and she was panting heavily.

Jon’s eyes widened as he realized what she was thinking.

“MY QUEEN!” He called out. Her head snapped towards him and she looked at him with wide eyes, as if she wasn’t quite comprehending that he was there.

“DAENERYS! Dany! Listen to me!” Her expression did not soften but he could tell she was listening now.

“Dany, you are better than this! Don’t be the woman they fear you are!”

Everyone was listening now. Every head in the long, narrow street, Lannister and Targaryen alike, were staring in curiosity and fear, waiting for what would become an act of mercy or a death sentence.

“I know this isn’t you! _You_ know this isn’t you! You are the breaker of chains! You protect people from tyrants! You are not one yourself!” He took a deep breath and with a hoarse voice continued, “You have lost so much in these past few days alone- enough to drive anyone mad! But you’re not anyone- you’re Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons!”

She looked at him with a shocked expression. It appeared that she nodded slightly but Jon couldn’t tell for sure. Gods he hopes she nodded. And then she took off.

….

 _Dracarys_. Missandei’s last words. She was telling Daenerys to take her revenge with fire and blood but she wouldn’t want it like this. Missandei had only ever wanted people to be free and happy, Daenerys doing anything to put innocent lives in danger would betray her memory. And yet she was mad. Mad enough to burn down a city. But Jon’s words seeped into her mind and she looked down under Drogon and at the thousands of people scampering out of her way.

They were scared of her.

She would show them not to fear her. It might take months, years, decades; but the day will come when Drogon flies above them and instead of running for their lives they will cheer and smile and laugh because they know their queen would never hurt them.

She flew to the Red Keep now. She would take what was hers with fire and blood- but not the blood of innocents.

….

It was as Daenerys was flying to the Red Keep that the wind began to pick up. The fire on the walls that surrounded King’s Landing managed to spread to a wagon sitting just near the gates. With the wagon surrounded in flames the wheat inside was set ablaze. Pieces of wheat on fire flew in the wind until one landed on the roof of a house just a few yards down. The shingles caught the blaze and went alight themselves until soon the whole house was in flames.

Before anyone could process these events a blast of green fire burst out of the house and set off a chain reaction of bright green explosions that consumed King’s Landing.


	3. Chapter 3

Arya and the Hound had just pushed their way into the castle when the chaos erupted. Loud booms Arya could only guess were explosions sounded in the distance. The screams of civilians and the cries of confused little children could be heard from every direction. She stopped in her tracks.

“We have to go back.”

The Hound looked at her incredulously, “You scared, girl?”

Arya scowled, “I’m not. They are.” She waved her hand behind her, gesturing to the thousands of invisible people screaming for their lives beyond the walls of the Red Keep.

“I didn’t come here for them.” He growled. His expression was hard but only for a moment. It softened when he saw the look in Arya’s eyes.

 “You always were a pain in the ass, weren’t you?” He sighed, “I’m finding my brother. I won’t leave this gods forsaken castle til he’s dead. But go if you must. You’ve always been stronger than me. I should’ve known you’d see sense in the end.”

Arya was speechless. She opened her mouth but no words came out. The Hound had never spoken to her like that before. He took her silence as an opportunity to slip out and find his brother. Before he was fully out of the room though she found her words, “Good luck.”

It was all she said, it was all she had to say.

He nodded and they walked their separate directions.

….

He found his brother on the stairs leading to the bottom of the Red Keep. From the stairs he could see the city below in chaos. As the fire spread more and more green explosions would activate and devastate another portion of the city. He thought of Arya but felt no fear for her. She would make it through this, she’s made it through much worse. He’d try and find her when it was over. That is if he was still alive.

The Hound bristled with anticipation. He’d been waiting for this moment since the very day his brother pushed his face into the flames. Nothing was going to take this from him, especially not Cersei who stood behind his brother as if he was a protector instead of a killer. Granted, he didn’t exactly recognize the man in front of him. His skin was a deep purple and his eyes were glazed over and void of color. Even hidden behind his helmet, the Hound knew that his brother’s face was void of expression or feeling. Not that that changed anything, in the Hound’s eyes he was still that boy who pushed his brother’s face into the fire and held it there while he screamed. 

“Let’s finish this.” He shouted, “Just you and me.” 

For a moment it seemed as if his brother would not act. That he didn’t even recognize the hate in the eyes in front of him. But then he advanced.

“Get back here!” Qyburn yelled, “I command it!” He placed an arm in front of the Mountain’s chest in an attempt to stall his movements. The Hound knew it was fruitless. His brother’s gaze was locked on his and there was no going back. The Mountain grabbed Qyburn’s arm and launched him over the railing, sending him plunging into the dying city below.

Cersei gasped and took a step back before quickly regaining her composure. She picked up her skirts and scuttled back in the direction she came. If it were any other occasion he would have relished seeing the woman so disgruntled and scared, but at the moment the only thing occupying his mind was the prospect of his brother’s corpse.

He withdrew his sword and flexed his fingers around its metal hilt.

“Come at me you old bastard.” He muttered while his brother charged towards him.

….

The last time he walked these halls he’d still been sleeping with his sister. A lot had changed since then, the very thought of touching her flesh made him sick. Besides, he found himself someone else. Someone who loved him for him, not for who she wanted him to be.

 He found Cersei in the throne room. He should have known she’d been in there, desperately trying to hold onto her power while it was ripped from her fingertips. She paced in front of the throne like a caged animal, still oblivious to his presence.

“Cersei.”

The pidder-padder of her footsteps ceased as his voice echoed against the empty walls.

“Jaime.”

Her face betrayed no emotion. He thought back to the last time he saw her. She threatened to kill him. He thought back to the last time he heard from her. She sent his friend to kill him for her. There was no emotion here but contempt and hate. Not even the familiar sense of nostalgia he normally received from gazing into her green eyes.

Neither of them made a sound while he walked towards her. They were silent still when he was standing no more than a foot away.

“What are you doing here Jaime? Here to gloat?” Her lips twitched and Jaime could not tell whether she wanted to laugh or cry. Knowing Cersei it was more likely she wanted to scream.

“I’m not here to gloat.”

“Then what is it? You knew the dragon whore would lose and came expecting I’d let you crawl back into my bed? You really are daft.”

Jaime clenched his teeth. He wished desperately that he chose to see Cersei for who she really is years and years ago when he first became entranced with her. It would have saved him a lifetime of pain.

“You sent Bronn to kill me. Your own brother.” He didn’t say it as an accusation nor a question. He said it for what it was- the truth.

“You betrayed me.” She said as if it were really that simple. “Besides, the imp is my brother just as much as you are. You know how little sentiment I have for that beast.”

“I see.” Jaime sighed. “So family means nothing.”

“My only family,” She grazed her hand over her stomach which had started to swell since he’d last seen her, “Was my children. It may have been you once, but you ended that the second you walked away from me.”

Jaime heard explosions outside, whenever they finally seemed to cease the void was filled with screaming.

“I saw the fire. It was green. Dragonfire is red.”

Cersei glared at him. She used to do that often when they were children and he would suggest something she found obscene. Of course she would do it anyway, she loved him. She doesn’t love him anymore.

“History won’t remember the color of the fire, only its presence. Whether I live or die today, the Targaryen will never be seen as anything other than the mad bitch she is.”

Jaime cupped her face gently. She tensed at his touch but did not pull away.

“I have loved you since the day we were born. I fear a part of me will always love you, even after all you’ve done.” She didn’t interrupt so he took that as permission to continue. “I have stood by while you have taken countless lives. Your actions have led to the deaths of our children, our father, and so, so many others. I won’t let you hurt anyone else again, Cersei.”

She sneered but still said nothing. It was very unlike her not to have a remark but then maybe she knew what was coming and had enough of her wits left to know words won’t stop it from happening. He felt her smooth skin under his hands. She’d gained a lot of weight since they last saw each other. He didn’t know whether it was from the baby or the wine. He looked into her green eyes, twins to his own. So many times he looked into those eyes and found salvation, now all he saw was death. His hands slid from her cheeks down to her neck and he squeezed.

….

Arya lied. She told the Hound she would go to the city and was halfway there when she heard him scream. It didn’t have to mean anything. He could have screamed while charging at his brother, he could have screamed in triumph as he watched his brother die. Or he could have screamed as he met his own death. Said an unbidden thought. She couldn’t help herself.

She ran back to the direction of the scream. She found herself in many dead ends and wrong turns before she found the origin of the noise atop the staircase overlooking the city. Heat radiated off the air and sweat pricked her skin but none of that mattered. Right now all that mattered was the Mountain’s corpse, missing a head, and the Hound laying next to it wish a large gash in his chest.

She walked to his side and squatted down next to him.

“You did it.”

He chuckled though it turned into a wheeze halfway through. “I did. Gave me a hell of a fight though.”

Her lip quirked up slightly.

“I thought you were going off to be a hero?” He rasped. “Changed your mind?”

She rolled her eyes. “I had to weigh my priorities.”

He chuckled once more before changing into a more serious expression, “I need you to kill me; put me out of my misery.”

She knew he would ask and yet she couldn’t help but be shocked.

“Make up for last time,” he continued, “There’s no coming back from this. Would you rather me die now or die in a few hours when the pains so bad I can’t open my eyes?”

She still didn’t respond so he kept talking, “I killed my brother- got my revenge. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Now let me die in peace.”

“You don’t have to convince me. You deserve a good death.” She stroked his burnt cheek with the back of her hand and then lay it to rest on her sword. “Thank you, Sandor.”

He nodded slightly though he grimaced from the pain. She thought she saw tears gathering in his eyes but didn’t look long enough to confirm it. And then before he even knew what was happening she drew Needle and sliced his throat.

….

Dany didn’t mean for this to happen. The city was burning and it was all her fault. She blinked tears out of her eyes from where she sat on Drogon and tried not to focus on the blood curdling screams. A choked sob managed to break its way through and she had to stop Drogon in his path. She couldn’t go to the Red Keep and claim her throne like nothing was wrong. She couldn’t stand by while thousands of innocents died at her hands, even if indirectly.

Drogon dived towards the ground. She did not miss the way the people ran from her the same as they ran from the fire. She could only hope they’d see sense and realize she’s trying to help. Drogon landed amidst the flames. The street was almost empty, most of them ran away when they saw her coming. Some of them, though, were so scared they fell to the ground or froze where they stood. Those were the ones who needed her help the most.

She ran up to two children who were holding onto each other, shaking. It was a boy and a girl, each no older than 10. She kneeled down to their level and reached out a hand. “I know you’re scared, but I can protect you. Let me help you. Please.” The boy and girl exchanged looks and then looked back to her. The girl nodded slowly before grabbing Daenerys’ hand in her own. It was shaking fiercely but the girl’s expression was fierce. Daenerys broke out into a grin so wide she thought her face might crack. She led the children to Drogon where she helped them onto his back. They were afraid but they were strong. She already loved them, and everyone in this dying city, with everything she had.

She gathered as many people as she could onto her child and flew them outside the walls into safety. She would repeat this until there was not a person left who needed saving.

….

The Lannister soldiers did not pick up arms against their men, but they did not stay to help either. As soon as the explosions first began they scattered like a bunch of ants when their hole is destroyed. Jon cursed them as he watched the chaos unfold. The few parts of the city that weren’t covered in flames were covered in ash and decay. When the destruction finally began to seem to subside the flames would spread to another hidden stash of wildfire and devastation would strike again.

Jon was doing everything in his power to stall the death and destruction. He helped who he could but it wasn’t enough. He somehow became separated from the rest of the army and ran through the streets grabbing unknowing civilians from falling rubble or the onslaught of flames. His lungs were on fire and every breath was agony. Fire was surrounding him on every side and there was no escape. He didn’t think he could last for much longer.

That was when through the ash and green flames he saw a flash of red. He followed it and eventually came face to face with a small boy. His hair was and kissed by fire and arranged in messy curls, his eyes a chilling blue. He reminded Jon of a brother that died long ago. He scooped the boy in his arms, shushing him and whispering it would be okay. He hoped the child wasn’t smart enough to see the truth.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the sky. His breathing was labored and every inhale came with a rasp. He felt the heat surround his skin and the ash stick to his sweat. The child’s small arms were wrapped tight around his neck and he could feel tears where the boy’s face was pressed against his cheek.

Just as he resigned himself to surrender he felt a strong breeze on his face and heard the loud whoosh of wind. He opened his eyes, blinking profusely as ash had found its way between his eyelashes, and he saw a dragon descending before him. He could have laughed at the sight, and he might have for the child looked up at him in confusion.

Drogon was soon sitting right in front of him and Daenerys slid down from his back hastily. She ran towards him and pulled him into an embrace with the child between them.

“I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.” She sobbed.

“Shh, I know. It’s not your fault Dany.” He stroked her tangled hair gently with the hand that wasn’t desperately holding the boy. She pulled back and gave him a small smile. “I love you, Jon Snow.”

“And I love you.” He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and they walked toward the dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the Hound, I thought it was poetic. (if i was wrong about that just pretend it didn't happen, I won't be upset)  
> And the dead brother was Robb if that wasn't clear, I know he looked different in the show I just thought red hair would stand out more plus I love book Robb's appearance it's adorable.
> 
> If you're reading this before the finale good luck and if you're reading it after I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened yet but I doubt it's gonna be good.
> 
> Anyway! Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)  
> (And thanks again for all the comments, they literally keep making my day)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want it to be super dramatic I'd suggest listening to this- https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=K318JWc85Dk  
> (and can I just say Ramin Djawadi is a god)

Jaime Lannister was sitting on her throne. His legs were crossed and he was looking up to the ceiling with a blank expression. Next to him lay the body of Queen Cersei. Daenerys was awestruck. Not a single thought materialized in her head. She just stared at the broken man and the dead woman with the bulging stomach.

Jaime finally looked down from the ceiling and met her eyes. “I hope you’ll forgive me. I was simply keeping it warm for you.” He smirked at himself as if he knew something she did not.

Jon surged forward from behind her but she put an arm out, stopping him in his tracks. He leaned forward still as if preparing to charge any minute. “It’s okay.” She said softly. 

“When my father walked in this same room after Robert’s Rebellion Jaime Lannister said those same words while sitting above your father’s corpse.” 

“A kingslayer through and through.” She muttered to herself. Upon seeing Jon’s frantic expression she sighed. “My father was not a good man. Cersei was not a good woman. I can’t forsake a man who rid the world of two of its worst tyrants.” 

She saw the muscle working in Jon’s jaw and carefully put her hand to his cheek. “Do not fret, love.” She said so softly that only the two of them could hear, “Together we’ll make the world a better place. There will be no more need for kingslayers.” 

He placed his hand over hers and closed his eyes briefly before nodding. 

“I thank you for your consideration.” She said to Jaime, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to take my seat.” 

He nodded and stood up on shaky legs.  _ So he isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be _ . But Dany could hardly condemn him for that. When Viserys’ head fell to the floor in a mixture of blood and gold, she stood silent and void of emotion. That night she emptied the contents of her stomach until there was nothing left. Then she dry heaved til dawn.

Regaining his composure, he walked from the Iron Throne and stood beside her armies. Now there was nothing between her and the throne. Nothing between her and her dreams. She took a shaky breath. There wasn’t a sound in the room save for her footsteps and Jon’s in tandem. Before she knew it she was but a foot from the throne. She reached out to feel the cool metal of the iron swords but her hand stopped in its track as if an invisible border was encasing the chair. Her head moved to the left as if out of her control. She thought back to her vision in The House of Undying all those years ago; her husband and her son had sat just beyond that wall. 

Her hand fell back to her side.

“Jon.” She said while staring at the throne a moment more and then turning to meet his eyes. “You are my kin. We two are the last of a great dynasty who sat on this throne for centuries.”

He said nothing for a moment as if deep in thought before finally speaking up. “And from this throne they enforced laws that were though well meaning, corrupt at heart.” 

She grabbed his hands, interlacing their fingers and squeezing tightly. “Let’s break the wheel.” She whispered. “Together.”

“Together.” He affirmed. 

The sound of a dragon’s wings fast approaching could be heard in the distance.

If Dany was truly to break the wheel, this was the first step. She would start a new dynasty, one better than all the others before it. One where cruelty was not bred in the shadows and the people could at last find peace. Drogon was here now and he knew what to do. With one last deep breath she watched the flames envelope the throne.

….

The Hound was dead and the city in ruin. From the armies marching towards the Red Keep and the heavy smoke emerging from the throne room, Arya could only assume Cersei was dead. At least there’s that. 

The flames diminished by now and ash covered every inch of the city. Screams were replaced by coughs and shouts of family members’ names as the citizens desperately tried to find their loved ones in the rubble. There were some covered in gray, sitting on gray streets, talking to their gray friends of the Dragon Queen and her cruelty. Arya was not stupid, she saw the dragon picking up stragglers while she was on her own mission through the city. Daenerys didn’t do this. Who would’ve thought? Jon was actually right. 

After spending some time helping whoever she could, Arya followed the rest of the soldiers to the throne room. First in line were the Unsullied though most of them were already inside. The Dothraki were next, they sat whooping triumphantly on their horses. Last was the Northerners, along with a few good men and women who rode with Jon to Kings Landing after the battle at Winterfell. She lingered at the side of the Northerners, keeping a safe distance, until her eyes fell upon a man in the crowd. As if he felt the weight of her eyes he too turned to face her and upon seeing her he broke into a grin so wide Arya thought his face might crack. 

He began to walk to her then that turned into a steady jog then a sprint. She had meant to hold her composure but before she could even comprehend what she was doing she was running towards him. When they met he scooped her in his arms and twirled her in the air. She giggled. She actually  _ giggled _ . She couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever been happy enough to do that. 

When he put her down he began speaking in rushed bursts, “When you left I knew there was only one place you’d go- I was so worried- I just had to come- I didn’t-”.

She clamped a hand over his mouth and shooshed. “I’m glad you came.” She felt him smile against her hand. Just like her, he was covered in bruises and gashes and ash, but none of that mattered. When she lowered her hand Gendry took a deep breath. “I never thought I’d be a Lord. If the thought ever crossed my mind, even once, I would’ve thought I’d gone mad. I wouldn’t dare to hope for such a thing.” His lips quirked up slightly, “So I’ve never really wanted it. All I need to be happy is a good forge, a solid three meals a day, and my family.” He grabbed her hand hesitantly as if afraid she would pull it away, “You said once that you’d be my family. Does that offer still stand?” 

She looked at him sideways for a moment and then broke out in a grin. She stood on the tips of her toes and pulled him down by the nape of his neck, “It always has.” She said and pressed her lips to his.

….

All Jaime saw was red. The throne was aflame and the swords that have stood witness to centuries worth of kings began to melt under the pressure. Cersei’s body which had been draped across the throne’s end was by now nothing more than ash. The new Queen and what he could only assume to be the new King, stood hand in hand, bearing witness to their new beginning. Jaime was afraid there wouldn’t be one of those for him. In going to kill Cersei he had abandoned the only person who had looked at him for what he could be rather than what he was. He would miss that.

He decided it was best to sneak out while everyone was distracted. It sounded as if the Queen had no intention of punishing him but he didn’t want to give her a chance to change her mind. He gave the burning throne one last look, reflecting on all the kings and queens that have graced its surface, and now it was no more. To be honest he didn’t quite know how to feel. With a deep breathe he gathered the courage to rip his gaze from the enthralling lick of the flames and left the Red Keep once and for all.

He departed for Essos, to a place he could live free from the burden of his name. He spent his first few months on the streets. He’d never had to work for a living before and frankly he didn’t know where to start. Though soon he got back on his feet and began working a simple labour job. His handicap made it difficult but not impossible. He kept a steady communication with Tyrion but other than that he had forsaken any remnant of his past life. Soon a year had passed and he had a place of his own and even a friend or two. He heard gossip of the happenings in Westeros every once in a while but could never tell what was true and what was just a rumor. He’d heard a merchant girl tell an old man at her stand that the King and Queen had produced an heir, a little girl with silver hair. He overheard two men in a tavern say that the Queen made Sansa Stark her new hand. He heard that they had made a woman the head of the Kingsguard. 

That one grabbed his attention.

He thought long and hard before finally sitting down one day and composing a letter addressed to Ser Brienne of Tarth, head of the Kingsguard. Weeks had passed since then and he’d given up any hope of a reply until one night after a particularly hard day of labor he went home to find a letter with the sigil of House Targaryen imprinted on red wax. He could hardly help the smile that stretched across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I just had no idea how to end it and I'm not entirely sure I made the right choice, so that being said if anyone has any ideas for an ending they think would be amazing and would like the see it written, comment it down below cause I totally wouldn't mind adding another chapter or two of an alternate ending.
> 
> edit: I decided not to add an alternative ending but thanks for the great ideas anyway!


End file.
